Oz sat on the boxy air vent behind the warehouse, eating peach jel and watching some ratters play dice for alley cred. Silk was cheating, again, but he did it so well most of his boys didn’t notice. Oz did though but xe never squawked. It was one of the unspoken rules of ratters. While xe hadn’t been a ratter for over a decade, some things were written in xyr bones.

  “Why don’t you toss that gunk and come play, ghost-eye?” Silk called up to xem.

  Oz shook xyr head and took another slurp from the silvery jel pack decorated with a holographic peach. Whatever he might say about the gunk xe ate, it was good. Sure, xe had no idea if it actually tasted like peaches - them being extinct since before the war - it was still sweet, had a good texture, and gave xem all the vitamins, minerals, and nutrients xe needed for the day. Certainly better than whatever mutie-rat cart-meat was being served out of those food carts in Silk’s territory.

  “You lot of clankin’ rust chips,” Silk cursed when no one else would take him up on another bet. He pocketed the dice and climbed onto the vent to sit next to Oz. “Wanna come with us down to the wall? Supposed to be some good racing later.”

  “Can’t today,” Oz said, relishing the invitation. Silk was one of the good ones. When most shunned xem for being a Droido, Silk would punch anyone in the mouth for saying anything off-shine or loud or about xem.

  Then again, Oz would defend him too, and had. When a corpo from Neo Paloma gave Silk shit for liking boys and called his gang a joyboy harem, Oz bricked their car with ransomware and lost them a good bit of cred. Oz had a glass jaw but what xe lacked in physicality xe made up for in smarts and the computer in xyr head.

  “Harry got you on a short leash today?” Silk asked, not bothering to keep the disdain for Oz’s boss out of his voice.

  Xe shook xyr head. “Got a job.”

  “An hour at the wall won’t hurt. You can spend the rest of the night in your room jacking off to some dude getting hacked for all his worth or whatever it is you do.”

  Oz scoffed which made Silk smile just like he did whenever Oz showed any rare sign of emotion.

  “Don’t tell me you don’t get off on tearing those corpos a new asshole in their cred accounts for Harry,” Silk followed.

  While it was true that there were times Oz got excited working on a new hack if it was particularly tricky, most of xyr work was pretty straightforward if not a little tedious. There were whole weeks lost to the stream,headglass lit non-stop, sitting in front of the holocom displays in xyr room above the warehouse. It took Oz time to come out of the haze and face the outside world, blue silence and all. In the past, it gave xem panic attacks. Now, xe had it mostly figured out…mostly.

  “No, it's a wet field job.”

  “No shit?” The look on Silk’s face was a mix of shock and pride. “Harry’s letting his precious Droido out into the world? I don’t believe it. Next thing you’ll tell me he's got some carboy driving his beautiful car down at the wall on a night run.”

  Some believed Droidos couldn’t understand sarcasm. The fact was, Oz understood it just fine, xe just was never really sure how to respond to it. This time xe just shrugged and finished off xyr peach jel, tossing the pouch at one of the ratters grappling another over a lost bed. The pouch bounced off his head and landed in the alley with a bunch of other trach, unnoticed.

  “What’s the job?” Silk asked.

  Before Oz could respond, an alert popped in front of xyr face. A holo screen hung before xyr right eye, invisible to those around xem. It filtering the world around xem and connecting to xyr computers both internal and in the building. The alert blinked in the corner until xe turned xyr attention to it.

  Harry: Get in here.

  “Gotta go,” Oz muttered and hopped down gracefully. “Good luck at the races.”

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Yea yea, break a leg or whatever,” Silk muttered, waving xem off as if he didn’t care despite his brow furrowed with concern.

  Inside the shop was deliciously cool but the shelves of junk looming over xem felt oppressive. Xe preferred to work in xyr room which was open except for the screens and bed. Harry’s office wasn’t so bad if there was no one else in there but the two of them. The shop however was too much.

  Oz picked xyr way through the aisles and headed towards the front where xe could hear snippets of muffled conversation.

  Harry was chatting up a man xe vaguely recognized. Some rock star who liked to play Mercy-side when he needed the money. Silk would hate him. Oz didn’t care about that so much as xe was interested in his tech. Xyr screen picked up the presence of advanced gear including a nano-tech immune system, enhanced bone and muscle mods, and more. A quick glance below the counter also told xem that his package was entirely bio-ware and top-shelf corpo-clean. Oz sometimes wished xyr gear told xem less about other people.

  The guy glanced at Oz and frowned before speaking to Harry. “I don’t work with Droidos. Draws eyes. Cramps my style.” This last part was said while adjusting his jacket.

  Oz’s holo scan told xem that the jacket was bulletproof and slash proof. Good work and much more costly than most folks in Mercy could afford. Rockstar either had some cred or a patron. Oz figured it was the latter.

  Harry was smiling but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You will have more to worry about than cramps if you insult my Droido again, Trig.”

  Rockstar raised his hands as if surrendering and sighed. “Look, I don’t have an issue with them but lots of people do. I don’t need that kind of attention while on a job.”

  “Then don’t take the job,” Harry said, his tone light and care-free as he turned back to his work bench. “I’ll give it to another cowboy. Callow. Maybe Heg. He’s been asking for work.”

  Trig scoffed. “Heg can’t tell his ass from his elbow and Callow? Really?”

  “What do you care? You don’t work with Droidos, right? Not even for a cool twenty clean.”

  Trig looked away, suddenly very interested in a display of refurbished wrist coms. Harry glanced at Oz and winked. Oz did nothing but stand there. Xe had seen Harry work enough that the outcome was inevitable.

  “Fine,” Trig said finally. “What’s the job?”

  “There’s that smart kid I was looking to hire,” Harry said with a chuckle. “I knew you weren’t all good looks. Oz, come here so I can fill you both in.”

  Oz sat down on a stool beside Harry, ignoring the possessive, meaty hand of his landing on xyr shoulder.

  “Bekker’s only been in Mercy about three weeks. In that time he’s gotten way too much attention but none of those eyes and ears can give me or my allies a clear idea of how he’s doing business.”

  Anyone in Mercy could tell you that doing business in a Free Zone was like swimming in shark infested waters. Doing said business without Harry’s explicit consent was like chumming those waters while swimming. Not a good idea.

  “His warehouse has top grade security,” Harry explained. “Oz here can get in and get the info I need. All you gotta do is get xem through the door and back to me. If anyone stops you, well, you can handle a little conflict while Oz gets the data.”

  “You want me to face military grade goons so a Droido can plug into Bekker’s coms?”

  Harry smirked at Trig. “You’ve done a lot worse for a lot less.”

  Trig sneered and looked at Oz. “Has this code-doll ever even been out of the box?”

  Oz quirked an eyebrow and let out a breath that sounded a little like a laugh or a scoff. Xe noticed how xyr display of emotion made Trig’s eyes widen in surprise. The widespread belief that Droidos don’t display or even have feelings was accepted by most.

  “It’s not my credentials in question,” xe said, flat. If rockstar here was going to be rude, it didn’t seem like politeness on xyr part would go far.

  Trig’s face flushed a little but he didn’t respond. Smart, Oz thought. Living in a Free Zone where murders happened daily meant keeping your cool or dying.

  He turned to Harry instead. “Twenty-five k. Clean.”

  Harry laughed and held out a hand. Handshakes meant nothing in a world where most hands were metal but Harry was old fashioned like that. It didn’t mean he trusted the handshake. Oz knew that. He simply liked the persona of being an old world mobster just like he enjoyed getting dirty in the shop when he didn’t need to. Underneath the good ole boy street grime, however, Harry was all corpo math.

  “Deal,” Harry said, gripping Trig’s hand hard. “Now you two get going. I have a shipment coming in and I don’t need you kids underfoot.”

  Trig nodded to Oz. “Come on. I need to make a couple stops before we scope the warehouse tonight.”

  Harry grabbed Oz’s shoulder before xe could slip out of reach. He pulled xem in for a half-hug and murmured, “Under eyes, Oz.” He gestured with his wrist-com that was linked to xyr head-gear. It was clear that while Harry was trusting xem to go out on this job, Oz was still being monitored. Nothing new here.